


as meat loves salt

by meretricula



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 21:50:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6771595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meretricula/pseuds/meretricula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The Hero wishes to leave the business. Perhaps the thrill is gone. Perhaps he wants to settle down and marry more than he wants to adventure. Perhaps he knows that age or injury has slowed him down too much; he cannot do the job anymore. But the job has to be done. It's time to pick a new leader."</p>
            </blockquote>





	as meat loves salt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stickmarionette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stickmarionette/gifts).



> Written to accompany a fanmix which can be found [here](http://footie-springfling.tumblr.com/post/143982048651).

"Well," Xavi said. "I guess you already know I won't be back next year." 

"I'm getting the strangest sense of deja vu," Leo said, completely deadpan. "Does that ever happen to you? I just kind of feel like I've already had this conversation before."

"Oh, shut up," Xavi said. "I really mean it this time." 

Leo tilted his head to the side and fixed Xavi with a long, unnervingly sharp look. After years of playing together, Xavi still got caught off-guard sometimes when Leo decided to get serious. "Yeah? Well, fair play for the advance notice, I guess. No chance of talking you out of it again?" 

"I already talked it over with Lucho. Final decision this time," Xavi said, only a little regretfully. "Sorry." 

"I hope you told Andres, because I'm definitely not doing it for you." 

"You are a model of professionalism to us all," Xavi said, "you lazy fuck. Yes, I told Andreu, as soon as I got done meeting with the mister." 

"Hey, I lead by example," Leo said, unoffended. "I'm not fucking around with all that off-pitch bullshit." 

"That's what you think," Xavi said meanly. "They're going to make you vice-captain, you know. You'll have to take responsibility for the kids now. You're a _role model_." 

Leo looked horrified. "What? No." 

"Congratulations, you're officially old. Who did you think was going to get stuck with it once I left? Gerard?" 

Xavi could see the usual defense of Gerard's intelligence and interpersonal skills gearing up behind Leo's eyes, and then its sudden deflation. "I'm going to make him do the press conferences, anyway," Leo said sulkily. 

"He'll probably enjoy it," Xavi said, with the serenity of knowing that Pique's big mouth was no longer his problem. "Just make you step it up with the squad, all right? Whatever the hell the black magic you worked on Ney was that convinced him you're actually a nice human being deep down inside, spread it around a little." 

"In all fairness, I didn't do that on purpose. I would never lie to an impressionable child like that." 

Xavi rolled his eyes. "Being an adult is all about lying to impressionable children. You need them to believe you know what you're doing, or else everything collapses into chaos and Sport starts running anonymous opinion pieces about our leadership crisis." 

"Ugh. Is it too late to chain you to the goalposts in Camp Nou? I can't believe you're sticking me with this. Andres has the shittiest poker face on the planet, I'm going to have to do all the lying for both of us." 

"Sorry," Xavi said again, although he was actually getting less sorry by the minute. It was amazing how much you could overlook about your terrible working conditions until you were finally about to escape. "You're going to be fine, though. Look at it this way, it's good practice for raising kids." 

Leo snorted. "Let me know how that works out for you when yours is older. Kids are a lot smarter than football players." 

"On average, that is… probably true," Xavi conceded. "But that's your problem now." 

"I don't know how, but you always make me feel like no matter how much I prepare for the worst I'm being overly optimistic," Leo sighed. "Oh well. Is it time for hugging now? Awesome. We're going to miss you." 

"I'm going to play a season in Qatar, not dying," Xavi said into Leo's shoulder. When Leo wanted a hug, hugs had a way of happening whether you meant them to or not: bastard had arms like an octopus. Xavi didn't really mind, though.

"Son of a bitch, really? I bet Dani a hundred euro that you'd go to America. Are they giving you a gold-plated football pitch or something? Villa's probably pining for you and your lectures on the platonic ideal of a direct free kick right about now." 

"You know, I remember when you used to respect your elders," Xavi remarked. 

"That's funny, I remember when you weren't senile. I guess they're right, memory's always the first thing to go." Leo squeezed one last time and let go. "I really am going to miss you, though." 

"I'll be back one way or another, don't worry. Try to keep the place in one piece until then." 

Leo finally cracked a smile, the first real one Xavi had seen on his face since he'd pulled him aside to make the announcement. "I'll do my best."

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. The quote used for the summary is from the TV Tropes page on "Passing the Torch".  
> 2\. The title is a reference to a [fairy tale trope](http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/salt.html) about love that is unappreciated until it is gone, at which point it is discovered to be essential. (Com menjar sense sal, for those listening to the fanmix, translates to "like eating without salt".)  
> 3\. Xavi was going to leave Barcelona in 2014, but Luis Enrique talked him out of it. Then he did leave in 2015, and we all cried tears of blood.


End file.
